


bright

by orphan_account



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Apocalypse, Brother Bonding Time, M/M, Slow Burn, it will b there eventually, slow mchanzo, they dont even meet until like. chapter 4
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-14
Updated: 2016-09-14
Packaged: 2018-08-14 23:12:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8032720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: No one really knows what happened.	All they know is that it was big, and scary, and very very bright.	And deadly. So, so deadly. All who the light touched were never again seen, be they omnic or flesh. The fortunate (or unfortunate) souls left behind had little left. 	In the morning they would scavenge for food, praying they didn’t run into anyone who could outgun them. During the day they would collect and trade scraps of metal and food, finding a way to trade for a living. At night, they burned dollar bills as kindling.





	1. the light

**Author's Note:**

> So, basically an Event happens in the first chapter that wipes out about 80% of the population. In this universe, Genji escaped Shimada Castle prior to being "killed" by his brother, and is living with Tracer, Lucio, and McCree.

Genji woke up first, his chest pounding. No, not just his chest – his entire body pushed. It felt repulsed. Pressure spread from his fingers to his toes. He clutched at the nearest object – a bedside table - attempting to hang on. He felt ripped to shreds – and that’s when he noticed his dragon. He hadn’t summoned it, why was it out? It wove delicately around Genji’s body, encouraging him to lift his arms and take a deep breath. It stared into his eyes, with Genji in its coils. Something is wrong, he thought. It never acts like this.  
The dragon kept him like this for what could have been minutes, or could have been hours. When it disappeared, Genji knew what it had emerged to tell him. He reached over to the nearest person, shaking them awake.  
“Quiet, Genji, you’re gonna wake everyone else. Go back t’sleep,” drawled McCree.  
“Something is wrong. We must get the others.” insisted Genji.  
“Ain’t nothin wrong. Quiet as a mouse. Go to bed.”  
Jesse realized what he had just said, and shot up immediately.  
“What th’ hell. Quiet. As a mouse.”  
The lack of sound was not, as one would think, a welcome change. Their location in a basement near a seaport was usually anything but quiet, despite how secluded it may seem due to the lack of any windows.  
“I need white noise to sleep,” said a rather loud voice.  
“I hear ya, Luci. Ain’t never been this quiet here.”  
“Hm. I’m gonna go check it out,” said Lucio, dragging himself out of bed.  
The group awaited Lucio’s update. Hearing nothing from him for a matter of minutes, McCree sighed and got up to see for himself what all the fuss – well, lack of fuss – was about. He climbed up all 13 steps, noting he could hear the sound of his foot fall on each one, and walked out the door.  
“Well, I’ll be damned.” he exclaimed, patting a dumbfounded Lucio on the shoulder.  
There was no movement in the city.

No one really knows what happened.  
All they know is that it was big, and scary, and very very bright.  
And deadly. So, so deadly. All who the light touched were never again seen, be they omnic or flesh. The fortunate (or unfortunate) souls left behind had little left.  
In the morning they would scavenge for food, praying they didn’t run into anyone who could outgun them. During the day they would collect and trade scraps of metal and food, finding a way to trade for a living. At night, they burned dollar bills as kindling.

Weeks went by. Tracer, Lucio, McCree, and Genji have come into contact with exactly 5 other people in Gibraltar the entire time, only two of whom tried to shoot them. The rest left them alone, eyes cast towards the group in fear. By this time, the group had packed up an airplane with food and weapons.  
“We need to find my brother,” Genji had insisted. “He can help. He knows what has happened, I am sure of it. And he needs our help.”

So, they packed and got ready to leave for Japan.  
“I haven’t flown anything this clunky for years...” complained Tracer. They were stuck with a “bloody huge” Boeing 747. McCree actually preferred the extra spreading room, slouching across the middle row of three seats.  
“I’m gonna make this thing my own.” said Lucio. “I call this section. My posters are goin’ here.”  
Lucio opened a frankly huge box of music and movie posters.  
“Yo Jesse, this one’s from an Eastwood film. You want it?” he asked, holding up a yellowed poster featuring three men on three different horses, each wielding a pistol and a stetson.  
“Damn, if that ain’t my style. Give it here.”

Soon, everyone had decorated to their liking. Genji had a section separated from the rest of the plane by hanging blankets, where he could easily meditate. Jesse had a spot filled with old movie posters from Lucio, and old pictures he kept of his family. Lucio had music and movie posters in his area, and a solar cell attached to his window to power his computer so he could listen to music. Tracer set herself up in the cockpit, with pictures of her family set up, and a coffee pot attached to another solar cell.


	2. the crash

“We seem to be having some trouble here!” Tracer yelled from the cockpit. “Someone’s attacking us from the ground. At this rate I can still land us safely, but it might be-”

Everyone jumped up from their seats as a huge bang echoed from the left wing. Good thing they were over Japan.

“Buckle up everyone,” said Tracer, over the intercom. “Going in for a crash landing, loves. We’ll make it out alive, promise, but our plane might not be so lucky.”

The experience was the second most terrifying in Jesse’s life. The attackers seemed to only have one gun, but apparently had impeccable aim. Everyone was screaming in pure terror as Tracer brought down the plane. McCree’s fingers dug into the cushioning on the chair in front of him, and by the time they were down on the ground he may have ripped a little bit off.

The group made their way out of the plane (well, what was left of it) alive and well, save for a few deep cuts and bruises. Lucio managed to salvage some of his posters, and his computer with the solar cell. 

McCree clutched his Peacemaker with both hands, mind set on attacking, as he moved out of the wreckage. When he exited, he found a group of people who looked like they desperately needed baths rummaging through the wreckage of the plane, picking up pieces so fast that half the plane seemed like it was already gone. They were completely focused on the wreckage, paying no mind to the people who had been in the plane. They ripped the cockpit to shreds, taking every bit of salvageable material.

“Y’all can come out. They just wanted the plane.”

The rest of the group slowly emerged from the rubble, each holding some of Lucio’s stuff.

“Damn, look at that one,” Lucio said, gesturing to someone in the crowd. “Who’s his tattoo artist? I want one.”

The man Lucio pointed out was no doubt the biggest man Jesse had seen in his life. His circumference likely matched his height, and he looked to be about 7 feet tall.

“I’ve gotta give them a piece of my mind. Crashing our plane? They didn’t even bother to kill us, for god’s sake.” spat McCree.

“Be glad we still have our lives, Jesse. They are doing what they must to survive.” explained Genji.

McCree mumbled something under his breath, but left the scrappers alone. Just as he turned around, he felt something cold touch his back. He felt himself get jerked ten feet away, and when he saw the huge shadow he was standing in he knew exactly who had grabbed him.

Jesse slowly looked up.

“Hi.” said a deep, growling voice, as a masked face looked down on him from above. It was fucking terrifying.

Just as he was about to respond, a high pitched “Wheee!” paired with a skinny body came launching from behind the huge man. The skinny one landed right in front of Jesse.

“Thanks for the scrap heap, mate. Means a lot, really does.” He had an obnoxiously strong Aussie accent, and was way too close to Jesse for someone who smelled that bad. His big friend was the only thing keeping McCree from putting him immediately into a chokehold. “Mind tellin’ me where you came across this beaut?”

“Whoa there, I don’t even know your name. Who are y’all?”

“Name’s Junkrat. Big one’s Roadhog. His name’s easy to remember, surprised you didn’t figure it out yourself, actually.” the skinny one replied, talking so fast Jesse almost had trouble processing everything. “So, where’s the jet from?”

“I’m actually looking for something myself. Maybe we could arrange a trade of information?” suggested McCree.

“Hm. Fine,” agreed Junkrat, crossing his arms, “but you tell us first.” 

“Alright. We picked this plane up way back in Gibraltar. Couple days ago.” explained Jesse.

“Well, that don’t do us any good, its so far away. Right, Hog?”

Roadhog grunted in agreement.

“Right. So, what else can ya tell us?” said Junkrat, surprisingly excited about the whole situation.

“Not so fast. We had a deal. I need help findin’ somethin’.” pressed Jesse, readying himself to attack if needed.

“Fine. Give us some apple butter. I saw your short friend over there holdin’ some, an’ I want it.” replied Junkrat, pouting a little bit.

“All right, you got it. Lucio! Throw me that apple butter,” shouted McCree, hands ready to catch.

“No way, it’s my special recipe. I’m keeping it.” he replied.

“Just throw it, c’mon.” urged Jesse.

“Fine.”

Lucio tossed over the apple butter. Junkrat snatched it as McCree was about to grab it. Junkrat opened up the lid forcefully, and dipped his dirt-crusted fingers into the jar.

“Mmm. Good stuff. So, what did ya want, Mr. Cowboy?”

“Name’s McCree. And I need help finding a person.” explained McCree

“Aww, c’mon, that’s cheating! I thought you’d be looking for somethin easy.” whined Junkrat.

“What do you know about a Hanzo Shimada?” asked Jesse.

“Oi! I know ‘im! Well, I know of ‘im. I know one of ‘is friends.” blurted Junkrat. “No one really knows where the man is. Jus’ that he sends out people to get him his shit. Supplies an’ whatnot. I know one of ‘em. Her name’s Satya. Quite a strange one, I think. Never likes to be near me, says I smell like a dumpster. If ya ask me, I smell jus’ fine, I-”

“Thanks, pardner. Where can I find this Satya?” interrupted McCree.

“She visits the food stand down the block once a day. Prolly hasn’t been there yet today, if ya wanna try an’ catch her.” he explained. “Gets Shimada provisions an’ such.”

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is greatly appreciated! This is my first time posting something longer, as in more than one chapter.


End file.
